


A Name.

by Aziraphale7



Category: Gotham (TV)
Genre: I know this may not interest a lot of people, but I wanted to write this bean nevertheless
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-20
Updated: 2019-04-20
Packaged: 2020-01-20 19:28:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,151
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18531622
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aziraphale7/pseuds/Aziraphale7
Summary: This is a multi part story about Robyn, my Gotham Oc.Robyn was a clone created by Hugo Strange during Oswald's first Arkham stay as means to replace Oswald should his therapy fail. (More is explained as the story progresses, I don't want to reveal too much in the summary!)





	A Name.

_ Oswald Cobblepot _ . 

 

The name seemed to echo throughout his mind as the night went on. He could hear the sound of light rain pittering against the roof of the small apartment. Light green eyes were focused on the city scenery outside the window next to his sofa. The man was sprawled out, laying on his back. He would almost look relaxed if it weren’t for his distant stare and his fists clenched at his sides. Typically within the night he would be scurrying amongst the streets, peering around for the next place he would steal from as means of obtaining money to maintain his life. Though he was unsure why he did such. He was unaware of any purpose that he had in this world. Strange had never told him what he was supposed to do. Every since he had escaped from Arkham and Indian Hill with Fish, Robyn was unsure what he was supposed to do.

 

He quickly learned basics. Such as the need for monetary value in order to survive. Not long prior to this night, he had been one of the many within the Narrows who snuck around, looking for a momentary shelter and a soul slightly more fortunate to pickpocket. Sometimes he even snuck into momentarily unattended doors for food. Though he eventually grew to robbing quite frequently, allowing him the ‘income’ to live in this makeshift apartment and buy enough microwave dinners to last the week at least. His life was very day by day. Yet nights like this when he was stuck home, his mind was often clouded. 

 

Robyn still remembered Indian Hill well. He remembered living there and the various tests that Hugo Strange put him through, even after assuring that the tests were through. He remembered assisting Miss Peabody in feeding and caring for the patients, the ones that Strange still had locked within their own cells.  _ For their safety _ . Strange told him. He remembered Isabella and speaking with her on the occasion he would bring her food to her room. She was the first he wasn’t scared of. He remembered the  **name** . Hugo said it was his name but it made his skin crawl. It made him feel ill, hurt as if it fell heavily onto him each time it was spoken to him.  _ Was he Oswald Cobblepot _ ? 

 

The man moved to sit up, drawing his legs inward once more. He couldn’t be. He had seen Oswald, heard him. Oswald was frightening. Was he frightening? Robyn’s head tilted as he considered it. His green gaze turned to one of his hands as he wiggled his fingers, watching the action silently. An ever brief and nearly silent chuckle slipped past his lips, though the sound was solemn. He couldn’t be! There had to be some other reason for him surviving other than  **Oswald** . Robyn turned, planting his feet on the floor with a thud, probably much to the annoyance of his neighbours below. 

 

He was unsure truly what he was doing or where he wished to go. Robyn stumbled down the short hall, turning sharply to enter the bathroom. He flipped the switch with ease and the light dimly lit the small room. Though it flickered on occasion, it served its purpose nevertheless. The being stood in fact of the sink, steadily lifting his gaze to stare at his reflection. Was that truly his purpose? A hand moved to run through dark raven coloured hair, a frown present upon his pale features. He watched his reflection, trying to determine whether he could truly recognize himself. Now that he knew the kingpin, and now that he was able to actually examine his reflection properly...All he could see was the other. Did he not truly exist? He questioned internally, tilting his head slightly. He had scared himself the other night as he ventured through his apartment. Robyn had caught a glimpse of his reflection as he walked past and believed that he had somehow been found. 

 

He remained silent, dropping his gaze at last. It wandered before landing on a small jug that sat at the bottom corner of the sink. It had been in here ever since he had arrived. He was told the last renter had used it to change their hair in order to flee the city unnoticed. It sounded unlikely, like something from some sort of movie.  _ Robyn had been watching a lot since he moved here _ . Yet...the idea intrigued him. Could he change his hair too? 

 

The man paused in consideration, examining the jug as if it may give him some sort of answer. After a few more moments, Robyn didn’t think of it anymore. He needed to change. He needed to make this  _ his _ body! He fumbled with twisting the cap off the jug, spilling some of it into the sink. It made a small sizzling sound against the dirtied sink, catching Robyn’s attention. He watched as the small streak where the chemical had flowed down into the drain now became seemingly lighter, cleaner. His gaze returned to his reflection, looking to his dark hair once more. He knew what was to be done. 

 

He was unsure what motivated him. What pushed him passed the slight tingling and burning of the bleach on his hands, or the strong scent that seemed to burn to smell. Robyn continued, watching as the chemical poured down the drain after running through his dark strands. He kept his eyes closed, not wishing to get injured more than necessary while doing this. Though Robyn held little understanding for what he was doing, he did his best. He used far more bleach than he actually needed, wishing to be sure that not a single dark hair was left for him to see. 

 

The process of rinsing off his hands and face only took a few moments, a worn towel moving to wipe his face dry. He was almost frightened to see himself now. What if it didn’t work..? He moved to grasp the edge of the sink, his numbed palms pressed against the wooden surface. After a few moments of hesitation, he looked up into the mirror once more. Much to his surprise, his hair was bright. Rather than the raven strands it had been before, it was now a light blonde. A shocked laughter left his throat, the breath he had been holding at last released. Green eyes watched his reflection with an almost solemn glee as he no longer seemed to be Oswald. Who was this man? He was not a kingpin that was for sure! His grip on the counter tightened as a small sob shook his body from deep within his chest. One of his hands reached forward to touch the reflection, assuring himself that it was truly real as more sobs broke out.

  
What was his purpose? He wasn’t sure. But he knew one thing. He was  _ Robyn. _


End file.
